


Reunion

by winterwaters



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 2x05, F/M, if even a smidge of this happens I will be happy, these two are killing me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2626979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterwaters/pseuds/winterwaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two words. Two words were all it took to send his world spinning. <em> Clarke’s here. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Losing my mind a little bit over the fact that the HUG exists.

Bellamy watched as Monroe was carried off on a makeshift gurney. He was relieved they’d made it back to Camp Jaha in time, before the arrow could do further damage to her leg. 

“She’s strong.” Raven appeared next to him. “She’ll be okay.”

“Yeah.” He looked down at her, taking in the new brace on her leg and her defiant stance. “And you?”

“I’m fine. Nearly as good as new.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her stubbornness, but she only glared right back at him. “What are you still doing standing here, anyways?” She asked.

He rolled his eyes. “Sorry to disappoint you. Don’t worry, I’ll be leaving to catch up with the others soon enough.”

Raven’s eyes widened. “They didn’t tell you?”

Her tone made all of Bellamy’s senses prickle. “Tell me what?”

“I can’t believe they didn’t tell you,” she muttered, and he stepped closer. 

“Tell me _what_ , Raven?”

Her expression softened just the slightest. “Clarke’s here.”

Two words. Two words were all it took to send his world spinning. _Clarke’s here._ Clarke. Here.

Clarke.

Raven looked at him knowingly and stepped aside, pointing in the direction of the medical bay inside the ship. Without a word, he took off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clarke had a headache. She was in no mood to argue with her mother any longer - for today, at least. All she wanted was to be useful again, to stop seeing the blood that wouldn’t seem to wash off her hands. So she’d taken to the med bay, offering whatever help she could. Her mother’s disapproving gaze followed her everywhere, but she ignored it. She didn’t need to lie down and be coddled. She needed to keep moving.

Kneeling by the next cot, she held a water flask to the young patient’s mouth. Her ears caught the sounds of surprise in the hallway, followed by heavy, hasty footsteps. Seconds later, someone burst through the open door.

No, not just someone. _Bellamy._

He was alive. Clarke felt a surge of gratitude and sheer joy. Stubborn, fierce Bellamy was _alive_. He was disheveled and more than a little bloody, but he was standing in the med bay just a few feet from her.

“Bellamy.” She didn’t realize she’d said his name out loud until his eyes landed on her. Shock, relief, and something else - something new - were all evident on his face. Then his mouth curled up at the corners, and the sight of his familiar, all too cocky grin nearly broke her then and there.

She was up and moving before she realized it, and as soon as they were close enough, she threw her arms around him. He caught her easily, his arms tightening around her waist.

“They said you were dead,” she whispered. “They said you all died.”

“You won’t get rid of me that easily, princess,” came his low reply.

Clarke laughed for the first time in weeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They sat in a separate room to trade stories. At Clarke’s insistence, Bellamy let her patch him up while they talked. He listened as she told him of Mount Weather, of the endless food and clean beds. The barely restrained anger in her voice was at odds with her gentle touch as she told him what she’d found above their medical unit - all the people kept in cages, for the sake of some sick experimentation. She told him of Anya, the anger giving way to sorrow.

He nearly pulled her close again, wanting to comfort her. Where had that urge come from suddenly? He tamped it down, settling for squeezing her hand briefly, but didn’t say anything. Neither of them needed empty words.

As she wiped the days-old blood off his face, he told her of his group’s journey. Being captured by the grounder, being saved by Kane’s group, being sent to find her. He tried not to watch her too closely when he mentioned Finn, but her expression never wavered, and her hands didn’t falter. He didn’t tell her about shooting the Grounder. It wasn’t his secret to tell. Was it a secret? He wasn’t sure. But he’d leave that up to Finn.

She did smile, though, when he told her of Octavia. 

“So,” she finally said, “Finn’s out there still… with Murphy?”

He heard the unasked question and met her eyes. “You know I wouldn’t have left them together if I didn’t think he could handle it.”

“I know.” Her knee nudged his as her voice took on a light tone. “Don’t tell me you trust him now.”

“I don’t know. But _someone_ once told me they believe in second chances.”

She blinked in surprise. Then her lips curled into a sweet, almost proud smile.

The moment was ruined when Abby walked in. “Everything alright here?”

Bellamy didn’t miss how her eyes swept over them, taking in every detail, from their nearly touching knees to Clarke’s hand on his jaw. Clarke didn’t move an inch, but the smile was gone from her face as she continued to check his bruises.

“We’re fine. I’m just finishing up.”

“I can take over if you want to tend to the others.”

“I’m almost done,” she repeated. “Besides, Bellamy and I need to talk about next steps. Our people are still out there.”

She was looking at him when she said the last bit, and he gave her a small nod. He kept his gaze away from Abby, who clearly wanted to say something else. Clarke didn’t speak further, continuing to clean a gash on his face. After a minute, Abby turned on her heel and strode away.

In the ensuing silence, Clarke hopped off the table and closed the door behind her. Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her when she returned to her seat. She arched one right back. 

After a moment, though, she sighed and her shoulders drooped, deflated. She looked so worn out, and yet she was still sitting here trying to take care of him.

He inched a little closer. Eventually, she said, “We have to go back out there.”

“I know.”

“My mom doesn’t want me to.”

He nodded. “I know.” 

“Part of me wishes I could stay,” she said quietly. “And then, I immediately feel horrible for even thinking it. How could I, when everyone is…”

He gently took her hand, bringing it in between both of his. “It’s alright,” he said. “For just a minute, you can pretend. _We_ can pretend.”

When she opened her mouth to protest, he put a finger to her lips. “Just this once, princess, shut up and listen to me.” 

Her mouth opened and closed once more, and he tried not to focus on the feel of her lips against his skin. Finally, a wry smile crossed her face. "Okay," she sighed. "One minute." She pulled her feet up on the table, sitting cross-legged. Her head came to rest on his shoulder, and he froze, unsure of what to do. 

“I’m so tired,” she murmured. 

Bellamy waited another minute, and when she didn’t move away, he laid his cheek against her hair.

“Me too.”


End file.
